"I believe I'd call it that, too, but perhaps we should leave that judgment to the Mate. She only asked us to report if we happened to see anything interesting."
Both ladies leaned closer to the window and turned their cheeks to the glass to watch the pair. When the two were out of sight, both ladies sighed. Edith stood.
"I think we could both do with a breath of fresh air. The front porch would be just the place to get it, don't you think?"
"I do indeed, sister, a breath of fresh air would be just the thing. I'll get our shawls. Do you think they might kiss?"
"I think it might be too early for that, but you never know. Let's hurry or we'll miss it."
Unfortunately, they ended up with nothing further to report. Still, what they'd seen was enough to warrant a recounting to the Mate first thing the next morning. They decided a basket of cinnamon streusel muffins would be the perfect cover for their visit.
In the meantime, they would put their heads together to come up with a plan to observe the couple more closely. It wasn't being nosy, after all. It was their duty to their pack.
Chapter 6
Her own sensuous moans were what awakened Olivia, or maybe those sounds came from her wolf. Holy shit, she'd been dreaming about making love to Brad. The man in her recurring dreams was no longer faceless, not that she'd ever needed the face to know who it was. The dreams were memories, really, that had faded over time into midnight hauntings. She thought they were caused by guilt and might stop after she left Terrence. Apparently not. She wondered what her sister would think of the strange sounds emanating from the bed above her. Lucy!
The first thing Olivia did, after she sat up, smacked her head on the ceiling, and uttered a few choice words, was to hang over the edge of the upper bunk and check on her sister sleeping below. The lower bunk was empty, thank the Good Lord. The only thing worse than her sister hearing those noises would be if one of her brothers heard them. Lucy would most likely be discreet, the bond of womanhood, and all that. Her brothers, on the other hand, would never let her hear the end of it. She cocked her head and listened for sounds from the room next door. Nothing.
The second thing she did, after climbing down the ladder and stepping on a hairclip that poked up through the carpet of her sister's discarded clothing options, was to stretch her aching back and flex her legs. The back she could blame on the cramped bed and lumpy mattress. The legs were from the five or six miles she'd walked the night before.
She was out of shape. She really needed to join a gym, but she'd tried it once or twice and found it aggravating to walk nowhere for an hour while watching a screen full of trees you couldn't smell blow in a breeze you couldn't feel. The path she was supposed to be walking through those trees didn't help either. The rubberized conveyor belt didn't crunch under your feet. Running the stationary track was no better. Circle after circle of doors and rails overlooking the sweaty people working out in the center. It made her dizzy. Using the weight machines was worse with their pointless lifting and pulling, but the worst of the worst was that the gym reminded her of Gilead, where she'd never really thought about how much she could smell, see, and hear, or how much she'd miss those things when they were gone.
Her wolf snickered at the little groan that escaped when Olivia touched her toes.
"Go ahead, laugh. We'll see what you feel like after the Winter Moon run."
The wolf danced in anticipation.
Olivia laughed. "Yeah, me too. We need to get in shape. We'll never hear the end of it if we end up at the back of the pack with all the old folks."
Dressed in a pair of flannel sleep pants and a tee shirt, she plodded to the kitchen in search of coffee. Her father was on the phone.
"Yeah, sure. If I leave right now, I can do it before work. Naw, it won't be a problem. Yeah, don't worry, I won't mention it." He barked a laugh. "Ya think? No, no, you're right. No sense wasting money even if you got it to waste. Yeah, yeah, I'll be right there."
"What's that all about?" she asked her mother who, bless her, had a mug of coffee waiting.
"I don't know," Ellie answered with suspicious innocence. The woman knew everything that happened under her roof.
"Hon? Give Harvey a call. Tell him I don't need a ride. I'll meet him at the job. Matt, you better swallow that whole," he said of the breakfast that sat on the table in front of his son. "Give me your keys. I'm taking your truck."
"But I'm working today," Matt argued.
"So you won't be needing your truck. I'll drop you off at Brad's."
"What's wrong with your truck?" her brother asked while stuffing his mouth with sausage and eggs.
Olivia looked around the kitchen. "Where are the cubs?"
"School," her brother answered around a mouthful of biscuit. He made a show of swallowing the lump. "Not all of us get to sleep in, you know." He took another bite and grinned around the mouthful, a disgusting act from childhood that used to make her gag.
"Grow up," she said as she had those other times, but this time she laughed.
"After you."
"I already have."
He was supposed to pat her on her head and say something like, "I know, poor little thing." He was always teasing her about her size. This time, he ignored the childhood script.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" He grabbed his hat from the table and ran out of the kitchen to answer the call of the truck's blaring horn.
"Wait! What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Her mother shushed her and went back to the phone. "Sorry, Donna. Yes, that was her. Still has a mouth too big for her body. Oh, hon, give her a break. She just got up. Donna, she's on vacation. Fine. Yes. Bye." Frowning, she looked over at Olivia. "You'd better get your shower and get dressed. Your Aunt Donna's coming over." Looking up at the clock on the wall, Ellie ticked off the minutes with her finger. "She has to get Harvey off, do the dishes, fold a load of wash, and write out a half a dozen bills. We have forty-five minutes."
This addition of minutes didn't surprise Olivia. Her mother had been calculating the time of her sister's arrival for years. It usually involved a lot of scurrying around, picking up stray clothes, cleaning the bathroom, and cramming any last minute finds in the oven. Olivia had once baked her father's favorite hat when she forgot to check before preheating.
"What about Joey?" Her cousin was thirty-five and, as far as she knew, still lived at home and probably always would. "You mentioned Uncle Harvey. What about Joey? He'd be worth a few more minutes, wouldn't he?" Donna probably still combed her cousin's hair and buttoned the guy's coat.
Her mother looked panicked. "Oh my God, didn't I tell you about him? I guess I didn't. Whatever you do, don't ask about Joey."
"Jeez, Mama, what'd the poor guy do, turn feral?"
"Worse." Her mother started to laugh. "He found himself a girl, a wolver girl."
"Oh, shit."
"And then some," Ellie said. "Her name is Julie. She's a sweet little thing from this tiny pack over near Swanson's Ford. She's working as a teacher's aide to pay for her college classes. It gets worse," she continued, clearly enjoying the family gossip. "He's moved in with her."
"Whoa! Good for Joey." Olivia shouted and then she laughed. "It's about time he cut those apron strings. Swanson's Ford is about an hour away, isn't it?" A safe distance from his mama's watchful eye.
"Fifty-six minutes. I took a ride over there with your aunt and counted every damn one of them. Counted them twice on the way back."
"It took you that long to get back?"
"No, but listening to Donna bitch about the poor girl, it sure felt like it. Get goin' now, and clean up in there when you're finished."
Olivia loved her aunt. She really did. The woman was a powerhouse of organization and could have made a real mark on the outside world. Donna loved her pack and was fiercely protective of her family, sometimes to a fault. She had a heart of gold once you got past the brass fangs that surrounded it. She was also brutally honest with her opinions, which
was great as long as you weren't the subject of those opinions.
Donna Morrissey never met a question that couldn't be asked. Her style was blunt and to the point. Her technique was wolf-like; throw your victim off balance and go in for the kill.
Olivia was reminded of that as soon as the woman had her coat off. "Looks like you've taken off a few pounds. Not so chubby in the cheeks as the last time I saw you. O'course, men like a bit more meat with their meal." The comment was followed by an elbow jab to the ribs that Olivia deftly avoided by hauling the coat from the woman's arm and stepping away.
So was Donna's comment a compliment or criticism? Since she wasn't sure, she settled for a neutral, "Good to see you, too, Aunt Donna."
"Then why aren't you over here givin' me a hug?"
Donna's hugs were the best. She wrapped her arms around you in a way that trapped you inside her embrace and squeezed so hard you couldn't breathe. Olivia imagined this would feel uncomfortable if you weren't prepared, but she'd always felt those hugs showed what Donna couldn't say. She loved you, and that love was powerful enough to crack bones.
It didn't, however, save you from the interrogation.
"Where's that fancy wolver of yours?" she asked once she released her hold. She looked around the small living room as if Terrence might be hiding there. "Ellie, you need to make that litter of yours help more around here. They ain't pups, you know." She marched over to Tom's recliner and pulled a sock from beneath it. "Well?" she asked Olivia. Donna was perfectly capable of harassing two people at the same time.
Olivia was prepared for this line of questioning. Stick as close to the truth as possible. "Up in Canada. For the holidays," she added, knowing her aunt would ask. "It's a family thing."
The kettle whistled on the kitchen stove and her aunt headed in that direction. "And you ain't family?"
"We're not mated." So technically, she wasn't family.
"You sleeping in any other wolver's bed?"
"Donna!" Eyes on her sister, Ellie overfilled the teapot. She swore and grabbed a paper towel.
"You should be using rags to mop up. Cheaper in the long run. I know, I know, Tom's working steady, but that's no call to waste. And I didn't say Livvy should or shouldn't be sleeping in another wolver's bed. That's her choice, though if you ask me..."
"I didn't," Ellie cut her off.
"I'm not," Olivia answered.
"Is he?"
That was a tricky question. Just because his family's choice of a mate was sharing the lodge didn't mean she was sharing his bed, right? So again, she could answer truthfully, if not honestly. "Not that I know of."
"Then you're as good as bit, and that makes you family," Donna said firmly. "What's wrong with those wolvers, they don't know that?"
"They do things differently."
"Hmph. Defying nature ain't different, it's downright peculiar. Wolver chooses his mate, he should want her by his side, not traipsin' all over the country."
Ellie laughed, albeit nervously. "Gilead isn't all over the country. It's home."
"Home? Bah," Donna waved her hand as if that was nonsense. "Livvy hasn't treated this place like home since she spent the last of our money and found no more comin'."
What? Wait. "What money?"
"Donna Mae." You knew she meant business when Mama used your middle name. "That has nothin' to do with this," she hissed. "That wasn't in the bargain and y'all knew it when you agreed. Everybody did. You promised not to look for trouble where there was none."
"What money?" Olivia asked again, but the sisters ignored her. They had other fish to fry.
"I promised not to ask her how she could stand sleeping with a skinny-assed weasel that smells like a department store perfume counter, and I haven't," Donna said testily. "Though somebody ought to. Just thinkin' about that wolver makes my nose itch."
The television commercials for Terrence's favorite cologne gave the visual impression of the great and masculine outdoors. Being familiar with the real thing, Olivia thought the stuff smelled like those cheap deodorizers people hung from the mirror in their cars. It often made her nose itch, too, but she'd only mentioned it to him once, and only the nose itching, not the fake woodland scent.
"I beg your pardon," he'd said testily, "But unlike those impeccable Gilead males you speak of so often, I prefer the scent of cologne to that of wet fur."
With the exception of Miz Ezzy, Olivia didn't know anyone who smelled like wet fur unless they were coming in from a run on a rainy night. But what a man smelled or didn't smell like wasn't her current concern.
"What money?" she asked, and this time she said it loud enough to be heard.
"There's no need to yell. We're sitting right here."
"What money? No one was talking about money." Ellie poured a glass of milk and set it before her daughter. She returned to the counter to grab the big glass jar that had held a ready supply of cookies for as long as Olivia could remember. Her mother thought she was being sly, but Olivia caught the murderous glance Ellie shot at her sister. "Anyone for a cookie? I never made this recipe before. White Chocolate Chunk. It's got Macadamia nuts in it."
"Macadamias! Do you know how much those things cost?"
"I ought to since I bought 'em. Quit complaining and try one. They're worth every penny."
"Stop," Olivia ordered. "Just stop it, you two. I'm not twelve. You're not going to distract me with cookies or the price of nuts," she said, although she snagged a couple of the fat round discs from the jar when it was offered. "Now what do you mean the last of 'our' money. Whose money am I supposed to have spent?"
Donna gave her the don't-play-those-games-with-me look. "There's no suppose about it? You spent it all right."
Olivia threw her hands up in frustration. "On what?"
Donna's hands slapped flat on the table for support when she leaned across it. "On your education. What the hell else would this pack invest in you for? And don't go giving me no starry eyed surprise. You're way too smart to be that dumb."
"Mama?"
Ellie had her eyes closed, probably praying that this whole conversation would magically disappear, or maybe she was just reaching for patience since she was grinding her teeth.
"We agreed not to tell you," she said, molars still clenched.
"Miz Mary agreed," Donna countered. "I never did, but she was the Mate and I had no choice. Miz Mary's gone to her sweet reward, God bless her soul, and Jazz ain't said yea or nay, so I'm free to speak my piece."
"Then speak it, dammit. What the hell are you talking about?" Olivia huffed.
"You watch that tongue of yours, cub. I'm twice your age and twice your size. I can still bite your tail if I need to." Donna sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her formidable chest. "Should have done it a long time ago, to you and that skinny-assed weasel you brought home."
"This has nothing to do with Terrence," Olivia countered.
"Don't it? You sat there while he cut your pack to ribbons. Oh, he covered his fangs with sugar and smiles, thinking we wouldn't feel the slicin' for the sweetness, being we're so damn ignorant 'n all. We listened to him tell us how wonderful you were to rise up from the bed of our poverty, and you never once gave credit to your Mama or your pack for lendin' you the hand that did the liftin'. You forgot your raisin', girl. You turned your back on your pack."
Ellie tried to intervene. "That isn't fair, Donna. She didn't know. I never wanted her to feel obligated to stay. Miz Mary didn't want that either, and Jazz would be the last Mate who'd want to trap a woman in a life she didn't want."
"Didn't want? That girl wanted to be a teacher since she first drew breath. She only asked for dolls so she could line 'em up in that schoolroom she had set up on your back porch, and she only wanted them dolls until Matt was big enough to tie down to a chair."
"That's not true," Ellie argued, and then in an attempt to cool things down, started to laugh. "She'd save her cookies to bribe Matt. It was Justice she tied to the chair." Still smiling, s
he turned to Olivia. "Remember when your Daddy had you convinced you'd taught that old bull frog to count?"
Donna refused to be deterred. "I remember you takin' in laundry and puttin' every cent of it away. I remember Tom being out of work and you stretchin' every penny and going without, refusin' to touch the money you put by for Livvy's education. I remember not hearin' a word of gratitude for it neither."
"I was grateful for it. I am grateful for it. You know that, Mama, don't you?" Olivia was sure she said it. She must have.
Her mother did laundry for several of the single men in Gilead including Doc Goodman, before he met Jazz and became the Alpha. The money she earned went into Livvy's college fund. Ellie was still doing other wolver's laundry, only now it was for Justice, since Matt never had an interest in school and Lucy was still undecided.
"I know it, honey."
"Wouldn't have hurt to say it aloud or tell it to that weasely wolver," Donna grumbled. "Wouldn't have hurt to say it to the pack or to Brad Seaward, neither."
Olivia bristled and felt her hackles rise. It was time Aunt Donna understood she wasn't a cub anymore. "You leave Brad out of this. He's let it go and so have I. It's time you did, too. It never was and still isn't any of your business. You want to bite my tail over it, you go right ahead, but don't think I won't bite right back."
"I wasn't talking about you breaking his heart," Donna said, getting her bite in anyway, "I'm talking about his wallet. That wolver gave more'n anybody to make your dream come true and took no credit for it, the damn fool." Her opinion of Brad was muttered to herself, but loud enough for the others to hear.
Prepared to fight over the breakup, Olivia was taken aback. "What do you mean 'his wallet'?"
She'd never taken money from Brad. He'd never had much money to spend and, she realized now, it had never mattered. She'd been happy with his time; riding on the back of his motorcycle, holding his hand while walking in the woods, sharing a burger and a milkshake at the Tooth and Fang because neither of them had the money for two.
Her wolf purred blissfully at the memory. She'd been happy, too. Of course, Olivia reasoned, it didn't take much to make a wolf happy. Food, shelter, and sex generally did the job, though the animal had never purred quite so loudly with Terrence as it had with Brad.
Shifter's Magic (The Wolvers Book 8) Page 6
